My Husband Spent Lavishly on His Girl Best Friend, But Refused to Feed Our Child

1.

Vivian Delgado's close female friend was a nutritionist. She lived by a vegetarian, wellness lifestyle and pushed her rice-water baby-feeding theory.

She preached that meat, eggs, and dairy all carried inborn toxins, that too much of them left a child with poor digestion and prone to getting sick.

Vivian believed in her ideas completely. He cut meat, eggs, and dairy from our daughter's diet outright, and only gave me money to buy thin rice porridge.

"Rice water is cheaper and healthier for raising a baby. Build her body up now, and later she'll digest meat, eggs, and dairy just fine."

Every day our daughter cried herself hungry, but her cries were as small as a kitten's.

Rice water couldn't fill her at all. She was over a year old and weighed barely fifteen pounds, far under normal.

All I could do was turn to my in-laws, hoping to get a little money out of them.

I never expected he'd just turn around and post me online.

The whole internet piled on me:

Isn't this gold-digger done digging yet? Your man gives you living expenses every month, and you go running to your in-laws for money, using the excuse that your kid has no milk to drink.

Shameless, greedy to the bone. If it were me, I wouldn't take a woman like that even if she came crawling.

My own family called to curse me out too.

"We married you off so you could build a life, not so you could squeeze people for money."

"Are they starving you of food, or of drink?"

I tried to explain, but not one person was willing to listen.

Until our daughter spiked a fever, and the doctor could barely draw enough blood to run tests.

Crying, I called Vivian, and all I got from the other end was mockery.

"So this is your new angle for money, huh."

"Do you even know how to spell 'shame'? Quit using the kid to milk sympathy."

Until that good buddy of his, the one who'd been a groomsman back at the wedding, tracked me down.

"So if I pay, will you come to me?"

Our daughter's little body was burning up, hot as a tiny furnace.

She kept throwing up too, bringing back the rice water she'd swallowed that morning.

I took her temperature. Far above normal.

I scooped her up and rushed her to the ER.

The cab cost a little over ten dollars. All that was left on my card was the hundred-something I'd set aside this week to buy her rice porridge.

Frantic, I called Vivian. "Transfer me some money. Our daughter's sick, she needs bloodwork. Send me three hundred first."

"They'll probably have to give her a shot soon too. Can you come to the hospital?"

Barbara Edwards's voice came through from his end. "Vivian, are you in or not? We're only waiting on you."

"Don't make me think you're some coward."

"Don't tell me that wife of yours is calling to beg for money again. Does it ever end? Are you supporting a wife or worshipping an ancestor?"

"If you're a real man, you'll toughen up. Stop indulging her nasty little habits. Kids catch colds, kids run fevers, it's not going to kill her."

Only then did Vivian speak into the phone.

"Mercedes Floyd, can you please stop making trouble out of nothing?"

"Barbara's a nutritionist. Whatever she says is right."

"A little fever and you run straight to the hospital. You think my money falls out of the sky? Take the kid home and stop embarrassing me."

The nurse heard the voice on the phone, and her eyes filled with pity.

"Mom, I'll be blunt. The baby needs her fever brought down fast, or something could happen."

Our daughter whimpered in my arms. I gripped the phone tight, and a call came in.

I thought Vivian had changed his mind and picked up at once, only to hear an unfamiliar man's voice.

"So if I pay, will you come to me?"

"You can think it over first."

I stared at the large transfer that had already landed on my phone, my heart pounding like a drum.

Nolan Marsh.

One of Vivian's friends, invited to be a groomsman back when we got married.

I looked at my daughter's thin little face, and I didn't refuse the money.

This kind of life, where I could never see what came next, I'd had enough of it.

I held her while they drew blood, my pale little baby, her veins too fine to find.

They stuck her a few times before they got even a little.

The nurse came over and helped me get her emergency fever treatment done.

Watching my daughter's sleeping face slowly settle back to normal, the tears I'd held in for so long finally fell.

It wasn't until the afternoon, once she was stable, that I went home.

Vivian set a container of takeout on the table.

Then he took out a sheet of paper and handed it to me.

"Barbara's about to start teaching live classes. You'll be her assistant and put the kid on camera, help promote her parenting expertise."

2.

"This way she can boost her following too."

"They've done so much for us. This time they were worried you hadn't eaten yet, so they packed you a box of leftovers. Don't be an ungrateful wretch."

The food came in a clear plastic box. You could see straight to the bottom.

Fish with no fish left on it. Ribs with no meat. And a few blackened leaves that had been stewing who knew how long, floating alone on top.

I set the baby down gently and pushed the script away.

"What did she ever help me with?"

"Help me raise my daughter into a sickly little thing who can barely spare enough blood for a test?"

"I'm not going to help her poison other mothers."

Vivian's face darkened.

"Don't you dare smear Barbara's name."

"Do you want this month's rice-water money for the baby or not?"

We dated. We married.

I handed over eight years of my savings to help Vivian start his business.

At our lowest, the two of us crammed into a rented room, sometimes eating rotten vegetable scraps I'd salvaged from the market.

Never enough nutrition for so long, I'd break out in huge patches of hives.

They itched so badly I couldn't sleep, night after night.

He knelt in front of me, wracked with guilt, crying as he swore to me, "I will never let you go without money again."

"My money is your money. From now on all you have to do is take care of yourself and the baby."

But now here he was, using our living expenses as leverage against me.

As if the baby weren't his.

As if his wife were just a pawn.

We were still locked in it when the doorbell rang.

I opened the door and there was Barbara, arrived at some point without my noticing.

Vivian's face softened at once.

"What brings you by? Is something the matter?"

Barbara handed him a slip and threw an arm around his shoulders.

"Bro, once word gets out about this dress, it's going to turn every head in the room, isn't it?"

"Pay for it quick, bro. Don't drag your feet and let someone else snatch it away."

Vivian only glanced at the amount before nodding right away.

"Two hundred thousand dollars. Not bad, very reasonable."

"When you show up in it, you'll be the standout for sure. I can't be the one holding you back. I'll pay right now."

I patted my daughter's back softly, and my heart sank, inch by inch, to the very bottom.

Two hundred thousand dollars, bought on a whim. But the money to check why his daughter was running a fever and needed blood drawn, he wouldn't spare a cent for.

And it wasn't the first time.

The baby needed new diapers.

He tossed me a pile of ragged clothes and told me to cut them up for cloth diapers.

"These are all things Barbara doesn't wear anymore. Barbara says disposable diapers waste too many resources."

"You wash a cloth diaper and use it again and again. You don't earn money, so save where you can. Save."

Then I turned around and found single-use face cream worth tens of thousands sitting in his shopping cart.

Bought for Barbara.

I confronted him, furious, and he answered back, cool as anything.

"Barbara says face cream like this breeds bacteria fast once it touches the air. Single-use is just right. It doesn't matter if you throw out what you don't finish."

"Can you stop being so unreasonable? This is a necessity for her. She gave you all those clothes. Don't I owe her something in return?"

Spend a fortune on her and it's fine, but spend a dollar on his own daughter and suddenly it's a waste.

I couldn't believe one person could be this shameless about it.

"If you dare pay for that, we're getting divorced."

"Vivian, have you forgotten? Every dollar you're spending right now is marital property we built together after the wedding."

Vivian's brow creased, and when he turned to look at me, his face was sour.

"Barbara's my good buddy. She's genuinely preparing for her career. Can you not be so petty about it?"

"And what marital property? This money is all money I earned myself. It has nothing to do with you."

"If you want a divorce, then let's divorce. I'll draw up the divorce contract for you right now. Just don't come crying about it later..."

Barbara's expression turned mocking.

"You're his wife, so don't take offense at me being blunt, but a guy as responsible as Vivian, there aren't many left."

"To take care of you and the baby, he spends all his time going over nutrition plans with me, sitting through my lessons. He shows up at my place almost every day, two hours at a stretch, all so he can learn more ways to look after you and the baby."

"A woman who lives off him. Once you leave him, how are you going to survive?"

Two hours at a stretch.

No wonder. No wonder he never got home until nearly eleven every night.

His family had come over as guests.

I'd carried my daughter on my back the whole time, cooking dish after dish for them in the kitchen, and every time he called to josh around, he was always busy.

I waited on the whole lot of them, and the table was covered in empty plates.

Starving, all I could make myself was instant noodles.

But before a bite of it even reached my mouth, he saw it, and without a word dumped it straight into the trash.

3.

"Barbara says a mom is the person around a baby most of the time, so she can't be eating junk food."

"Are you really that lazy? You can't even find time to cook while holding the baby?"

I was too hungry to even have the strength to argue, so I carried my daughter back into the bedroom.

Vivian was floating on all that flattery, and the way he looked at Barbara had changed.

Like he'd finally found someone who understood him.

The way he looked at me wasn't so gentle.

"You want a divorce? I'll draw up the agreement right now."

"That two hundred thousand you lent me at the start, I'll hand it back to you, and you can take the kid and get out immediately."

"But how your family treats you after that, well, that's not my problem to worry about."

He was using my own family to threaten me.

The last few times I'd fought with him, my mom had called and torn into me.

If I divorced him, my only option was to go back to my parents, and that meant one of two roads.

Either my family would bully me into swallowing my pride and coming back to apologize, or I'd be out on the street with my child.

He was already certain which one I'd pick.

I let out a bitter little laugh. He thought I'd caved, and he kept going.

"I knew you couldn't bear to leave. You just take care of yourself and stay out of things between me and Barbara."

"We're just good buddies. What's wrong with spending a little money on a friend?"

"And she's even teaching you"

I cut him off.

"The divorce agreement. Let's draw it up right now."

"I only want my own money and my own things."

He froze for a second, disbelief in his eyes. The words were already out, and now he'd backed himself into a corner. The anger on his face only deepened.

"You said it yourself. Don't come crying later."

"I've already sent the agreement over. It's an e-signature. You sign, and I'll give you the money."

I didn't really understand the clauses, so I sent it to an AI to check for me.

It matched pretty much everything he'd said, so I signed my name right there.

Once the two hundred thousand landed in my account, Vivian's face went uglier by the second.

He pointed at the door. "The agreement's done. This place isn't your home anymore. Pack your things now and get out."

"Of course, you don't have to go. All you have to do is beg me"

I carried my daughter back to the bedroom. Her things and mine together didn't even fill a single backpack.

I slung it over my shoulder and walked out without looking back.

Behind me, Vivian slammed the door hard.

Like he was venting, he started hurling things around the room, smashing them to the floor.

"Go, then. Leave. And don't you ever come back."

But I'd stopped wanting to come back a long time ago.

Vivian was furious, but once the anger passed, a hollow feeling crept in.

He went to open the door and chase after me, but Barbara stopped him.

"Vivian, are you stupid? Your wife just wants you to give in."

"A woman knows another woman best. The second you give in, she'll make you change your daughter's nutrition plan and start feeding her meat and eggs, and everything you've sacrificed will be for nothing."

Vivian stopped in his tracks, like he'd already bought it.

Barbara pressed her advantage.

"Just stay home. A woman on her own, with a kid, where's she going to go?"

"She'll come back sooner or later. Treat this as a lesson for her."

With money in hand, the first thing I did was buy formula for my baby.

I found a clean little motel and checked in.

My daughter clutched the bottle and wouldn't let go. It was the first time I'd seen her drink so eagerly, and it eased something in me.

I was still working out how I'd get through the days ahead when my mother called.

The moment I picked up, her furious roar came pouring through.

"Mercedes Floyd, have you lost your mind? You actually dared to get divorced?"

"You go back right now and beg Vivian to cancel that agreement. Even if you have to get on your knees and apologize, you're going back, do you hear me?"

"If you don't do it, then you're no daughter of mine. I didn't raise anything as shameful as you."

She used the most vicious words she could to describe me.

Like I wasn't her own flesh and blood, like she'd picked me up off the ground.

"Am I your daughter?"

"Mom?"

I called out softly.

"You think I'm in the wrong. But I don't see it that way."

"I'm just fighting for one thing, a road where my daughter can grow up healthy."

"I don't want to live like that anymore."

Only rice water, never milk.

Only cloth rags, never diapers.

The whole household's spending squeezed down to pennies.

Anything more, I had to apply for it, and even then he might not give it.

I wasn't Vivian's wife. I was more like his childbearing tool.

"Mom, he can drop two hundred thousand on a dress for his girl buddy, but he won't spare two hundred to have his own daughter's blood drawn."

"I watched my daughter cry from how miserable she felt, and her cry was as weak as a kitten's."

"It hurt me, it broke my heart, she came from my own body."

The line went silent for a second, and the cursing stopped.

Then, a moment later, it started up again.

"Don't be so dramatic. What family doesn't scrape through their marriage the same way?"

"You're just lazy. That man looks after you so well, and you don't know how good you have it."

"If you won't go back and apologize, then don't call me your mother ever again."

4.

The call cut off, and the next second the phone lit up with calls and texts pouring in like a blizzard.

All from numbers I didn't know.

I answered one. A woman's voice came through.

"You're Mercedes Floyd, aren't you? How can you be such an ungrateful snake? Dr. Edwards helped you out of the goodness of her heart, building up your baby's health so your kid could be stronger."

"And this is how you repay her. The second your kid gets better, you kick away the ladder. Dr. Edwards kindly asks you to be her assistant and you just stand her up."

"You'd better pray I never find out where you are. Because if I do, I'll kill you."

The venom in her voice was thick. I hung up fast.

I opened the texts that had come in. Every one of them cursing me.

Then a local short video popped up.

It was Barbara giving a talk, someone had recorded it.

Except her opening, of all things, was about me.

Very pointedly, she said I was supposed to come and be her teaching assistant.

Half an hour of waiting, and still no one showed.

Barbara started to cry.

"I never imagined that mom would back out at the last minute. If she didn't want to come, she could have told me ahead of time."

"It's all right. I can still go on."

The parents in the audience were already worked up.

"Teacher Edwards, don't be sad, we all believe you."

"Who is that mom, exactly? Tell us and we'll get justice for you."

"Teacher Edwards..."

My information got dumped online.

The calls kept coming, and people were even tracing my number to add me on a messaging app.

Vivian messaged me right then too.

Barbara's talk was ruined. Happy now?

If you didn't want to do it, why agree in the first place? Get back here and apologize to Barbara, or you can forget about ever coming home.

But I never agreed. I never did.

I went back through the video, and in one image post I saw a chat with my profile picture on it.

Barbara had posted it.

Teacher Edwards, I'll come to your talk after all. You've helped me so much.

Great.

Someone pounded on the door from outside.

The bang, bang jolted my daughter awake.

She looked at me in a panic, on the edge of tears but not quite.

I carried her to the door, and I clearly heard the voice of the front-desk clerk who'd checked me in.

"That's right, this is it, I'm the one who checked that mother and daughter in."

The pounding got louder.

"Open up, you bitch. Hurting the one teacher we trust most, get out here right now."

"How can you be so shameless? I'm going to tear that lying mouth of yours right off your face."

"Open the door!"

The pounding made my heart race, fear rising in my throat.

The handle turned, and I was afraid.

The next second, angry shouts broke out at the door.

"Who do you people think you are? Who gave you permission to barge in like this?"

"Move, move, move. This is a normal guest. You're all mothers, all grown adults, and not one of you has any sense of the law? Don't you know doxxing someone and breaking into their room is a crime?"

Someone still wouldn't back down.

"We're here to teach her a lesson. So what if you're cops, cops can't stop us. Arrest us if you dare."

"You arrest us, we'll sue you."

Those few lines were the last straw.

The officer swept his hand out. "Take them all in for questioning. Find out who started the doxxing."

The noise outside gradually died down.

Then someone knocked on the door again.

My heart lurched, but this time the voice that spoke was one I knew.

"It's over now. But this place isn't safe anymore. You should take your daughter and move somewhere else."

"I'll head out first."

I quickly called out to stop him.

"Wait."

"What you said last time, does it still stand?"